


Numb

by The_Torturer_Writes



Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: F/M, Rough Sex, Size Kink, just a smut really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24628807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Torturer_Writes/pseuds/The_Torturer_Writes
Summary: From these prompts:Not sure if I’m too late for Torture Tuesday. If I am, it’s still a fantastic idea and I’m so excited you’re doing it!! If I’m not, I’d like to request some size kink stuff with Flip. Thank you either way!!!+ Omg I LOVED your Flip dominant piece! That was seriously hot! Can you give us some more dominant Flip please? The exhibitionism angle was very fun too! Maybe some size kink would be hot too? Thank you so much, Friendly Neighborhood Torturer!!! 🔥🔥🔥
Relationships: Flip Zimmerman/Reader, Flip Zimmerman/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67
Collections: Torturer Tuesdays





	Numb

You heard him come in before you saw him. Absent his gun, the shoulder holster vaulted across the room and crashed into the wall. The next thing to hit the wall was Flip’s zippo; you watched it splinter apart and clatter to the hardwood floor. He cursed and groused, edging nearer to where you worked.

That was your only notice. Once Flip saw you, your peaceful afternoon was over.

He rounded the corner, and your breath caught. His beautiful face pinched tight, enraged and defiant. His hands clenched so hard the knuckles were white, and the muscles in his forearms strained. His long, angry strides faltered at the sight of you; he hadn’t expected you to be home.

It was supposed to be a surprise.

Ten seconds — from when he registered your presence to when he was across the room to snatch you up — It only took ten seconds. His hands shook, but he wrapped one around your neck to slam you against the wall. He pushed your skirt up over your hips and tore away your panties.

You tried to spread your hands across his chest soothingly, but he slapped them away, ignoring the imploring look on your face. Your lungs hitched with understanding. You kept your gaze on him, waiting for him to look at you. Even in his mania, he would always ask.

He needed to be mean to someone, to let out all the rage and frustration, and he needed that someone to be you.

Pressing your lips into a determined line, you nodded once, barely perceptible.

All of Flip’s training kicked in; and in a fluid motion, your face crashed into the wood paneling, and he jostled your legs open wide. The hand around your neck wound tight into your hair and anchored you to the wall so you wouldn’t get to look at him, to see him lose control.

Buttons clattered to the ground as he wrenched open his shirt. The buckle of his belt jangled, torn open haphazardly. Fabric rustled, and he muttered curses about his fucking clothes just being one more fucking thing to go wrong on this fucking day.

You splayed all ten fingers wide against the wall. Your heart thundered in your chest; and when you felt his hips against yours, you bit your tongue, knowing he wouldn’t give you any time to prepare for what came next. He wanted to see you cry and hear you beg.

First, it was a brush of the back of his hand. Then, it was the insistent probe of two fingers to line you up. Finally, it was the spear of his cock, rock hard and impatient. All in less than a minute.

He gripped your hip, pulling your ass back out from the wall, and surged forward, forcing another inch of himself into your unready channel. If he’d given you two more minutes, you’d have been ready. The danger in his dark eyes when he was like this was more than enough to flood your pussy.

Instead, he swore at how fucking slow you were to respond and shoved another bit of his enormous dick into you. Your whimpers turned to tears; tears turned to sobs; sobs turned to pleas. 

“Flip!” You twisted in his grip, trying to wrench your head free. “I can’t! It’s too much!”

He normally loved to hear you beg, loved to hear about how his cock was too much for you to take, and loved to prove you wrong by sinking it so far into you he was sure you could taste it. 

Today was not one of those days.

Switching one hand for another, he released your hair, plunged three thick fingers into your mouth, and used your face as a handle, turning every begging sound into nothing but suppressed gurgles.

“I don’t want to hear that shit.”

When he finally gouged at your cunt enough for it to accept all of him, he groaned and slapped your hip. Digging his nails into your side, he set a thunderous pace, crashing against you recklessly, not caring if you were with him or not.

Flip overwhelmed you. You tasted the charcoal on his fingers, smelled the smoke on his shirt, listened to him grunt as he rutted into you from behind. Your breath finally returned to your lungs, but it was uneven, interrupted by every drive of his hips. You sniffled, quieting slightly as your body finally adjusted for him, slickening and stretching that last bit.

“Bout fucking time you caught up.” He slipped his shiny fingers from your mouth and wrapped them around your ribs. “Not a goddamn word.”

You nodded, keeping your tear-stained cheek against the wall. His already demanding pace turned brutal, and you quaked beneath it. You bit down on your lip hard, desperately trying to contain each whimper so that the only sound you made was the squeak of your sweaty face jerking against the paneling.

“That’s right. You fucking take it.” 

You could hear it now, the way he gritted his teeth, and you pressed your ass back into him. Both of his gigantic hands clawed at your hips as he slammed into you, causing your thighs, ass, hips to ripple and bounce.

“Taste it yet? Feel my fucking cock in your throat?”

You shuddered, body tense and riding that edge. Your lips swelled and your cheek bled from where you’d bitten down so hard. In your desperation, you slammed your palm onto the wall if only to release a bit of what he demanded you keep inside. He tangled his fingers into your hair again, wrenching your top into a deep arch and your head far back. 

“The only thing I want to hear is you begging.”

Your captive breath burst past parted lips. You squeezed your eyes tight shut, working hard to curb the nonsensical babbling at the tip of your tongue. You wanted to moan and shout, to match the flooding of your cunt with a tidal wave of gratified cries.

Instead, it was you who gritted teeth this time, concentrating on obedience.

“Jesus Flip please!” You drew in a stunted breath because the begging wasn’t for you. “Please fuck me numb…” A sharp cry broke past your defenses on a particularly deep plunge, and his fingers tightened around your neck, digging into the pulse. “...please make this pussy yours.”

He growled deep in his chest and rewarded you with a series of forceful, jarring thrusts that had you seeing fireworks. Your teeth clattered; your body wracked with each severe plunge. He buried himself so far into your cunt you were sure you could feel it in your gut, and you whined for even a centimeter more.

You felt the moment he tipped over from frenzied anxiousness to sated and loose. One, two, three more rough strokes had his body shuddering as he emptied his dick into you. His orgasm moan was music, partly pleasure and partly relief. 

Drawing in a jittery breath, he pushed his lips into your shoulder and wrapped those long, muscular arms around your middle, molding himself to you as the rest of his stress bled away.

Trailing kisses up your neck, he finally murmured something that wasn't fueled by angry lust, and it turned your lips up into a cheshire grin.

"Fuck me numb, huh?" 


End file.
